The Murder of Little Joe Cartwright
by ChristyG
Summary: Did Adam finally succumb to his baser instincts and murder his little brother?


**The Murder of Little Joe Cartwright**  
ChristyG

Late Saturday morning, Adam Cartwright walked into the house after finally finishing his own morning chores, as well as those of his two younger brothers, Hoss and Little Joe. He didn't object to doing Hoss' chores—he was away with their father, Ben, on a trip to Sacramento, rather precluding him from completing them himself. But Little Joe was supposed to be doing his own chores, and he hadn't yet managed it in the three weeks the rest of the family had been gone. Adam's temper—often on a short fuse where his little brother Joseph was concerned—was fast reaching the explosion stage.

It's a darn good thing Pa and Hoss are due back next week, Adam thought to himself with a scowl. Any longer and there'd be one less family member to come home to.

He rounded the corner of the great room to sit down for breakfast, and found his little brother already at the table and wolfing down hotcakes like he hadn't eaten in at least a century. Adam's eyebrows lowered and he came around and glared at his brother.

"Where have you been?" he snapped. "And why are you eating?"

Joe looked at him in surprise. I'm eating because it's breakfast time. And I've been in bed. Where else would I have been at this time of day?"

"Certainly not in the barn, doing your chores. Wouldn't want to run afoul of your brilliant plan for making me do all the work while Pa is gone."

Joe flashed his brother his most winning smile. "But you're just so darn good at chores, Adam. Honest, no matter how hard I try, I can't do 'em as well as you. You're just awful talented that way." He speared a couple more flapjacks and tucked in ravenously. "You should have got here earlier, Adam. These flapjacks are the best Hop Sing ever made, and that's saying something. Too bad they're all gone."

"You ate them ALL?" Adam asked in astonishment. "What'd you do—build up an appetite sleeping late?"

Joe smiled beatifically. "I'm a growing boy."

"You won't be growing much more, once I get my hands on you," Adam snapped, grabbing Joe's plate and taking the remaining hotcakes for himself.

"Hey…!"

Adam lifted an eyebrow in his brother's direction, effectively silencing him. On rare occasions, Little Joe grasped precisely when to quit when it came to his oldest brother.

"Say, Adam…" he started as he watched Adam begin to eat.

Adam didn't even look up. "I don't want to hear it. You're not getting a day off today, and that's final."

Joe looked wounded. "That's not what I was gonna say," he pouted. "When have I ever asked for an extra day off?

"Yesterday."

"Well, I meant before that."

"Day before."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, what I was going to ask was, could I maybe work around the house today, instead of outside? I know there's all sorts of stuff that needs done around here."

"Like what? Holding your bed to the floor?"

"Well…like…" He broke off

"Crocheting doilies?"

Joe glared at his brother. "I ain't crocheting! I just don't wanna work outdoors today, that's all."

Adam sighed, and for the first time actually looked up from his breakfast. "Joe, what is all this about? Normally no one can keep you inside even under doctor's orders. And now you're practically volunteering to spend the day attached to the feather duster. What's going on?"

Joe squirmed in his seat, and Adam closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew that look, and it meant that whatever was going on, it was worse than he had suspected.

"Out with it, Joe."

"Well, see, you don't know about this, but I went to town last night."

"Of course I know. And perhaps you'll recall that I specifically forbade you to."

Joe looked astonished. "You know?"

"Yeah. Can't imagine how I figured it out. That fact that you said you were tired and turning in early couldn't possibly have tipped me off. By the way, if you're going to stuff pillows into your bed to simulate a body, next time you might want to try using more than one. Just a suggestion."

Joe smiled feebly. "Good idea, Adam. Gee, you're smart."

Adam rolled his eyes. If Joe was buttering him up, whatever was going on had to be bad. "So…contrary to my express orders you went to town, and…"

"See, there's this new saloon girl…"

Adam's eyes shot heavenward once more. "Oh, here we go…"

"She's awfully pretty, Adam."

"They always are with you, aren't they?"

Joe beamed. "Yeah, I sure can spot 'em!"

"So what's the problem? Besides the fact that a sixteen-year-old boy was in the saloon without permission."

Joe ignored the last comment. "Well, strange as it sounds, it was just when she was settling down on my lap that her husband walked in…"

Adam's fingers suddenly became lifeless, and his fork clattered loudly to the table. "Her husband! She's married and she's working at the saloon?"

"Yeah, ain't that somethin'? So, with one thing and another, he came over to me and happened to mention that he didn't much care for seein' his wife loungin' around on my lap."

"Imagine that."

"Uh-huh. So he told me what he planned to do to me."

"Which was…"

"Well, he started by telling me that he was gonna turn me inside out and use my kidneys for target practice. After that…well…it got sorta unpleasant."

Adam groaned. "Big man is he? Sort of brawny and robust?"

Joe squinted a thoughtful eye. "I'd say he was about nine-feet tall, and eight wide. Of course, that's just an estimate. Might have been bigger."

"Oh wonderful…"

"Well, of course, you know me…"

"I do. That's why I'm worried."

"…I thought fast, and when he asked me my name so he could inform my next of kin of my untimely demise, I told him it was Tim Cullins."

"Where'd that name come from?" Adam asked with great interest.

"Oh, it's just an alias I keep hand for times when…"

Adam held up his hand. "Never mind. I don't want to know. The point is, does this happily-married gentleman know who you are or not?"

"Well, like I said, I told him I was Tim Cullens. Only…"

"Here it comes…"

"See, I was sitting at the tab le with Seth and Mitch, and they started laughing when I said my name. Probably thinking about the situation last time I used it, now I think about it. But this bruiser, he might be a tad brainier than you'd expect from someone that size, 'cause when they started laughing, he got this sort of suspicious look on his face."

"And then?"

"I legged it."

"I see. So you're not sure at this point whether he knows who you are or not. Is that the gist of it? And if he does know, you're afraid he's going to come looking for you. So you want to hide out until the heat has died down."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Tell me. Do you do this sort of thing just to irritate me? Or is that simply an added bonus?"

Joe smiled weakly at his brother, but was saved from responding by the sudden strident pounding on the door. A voice called out from the front of the house.

"I know you're in there, Cartwright! Get out here right now, and meet your death like a man!"

Joe jumped up from the table and squeaked in terror. "You gotta hide me, Adam! Quick!"

The pounding came again. "Get out here, you little pipsqueak, or I'm coming in after you!"

A look of anger crossed Adam's face. He didn't appreciate hearing someone threatening to murder his little brother. He considered that to be strictly his purview.

"Stay here out of sight," he told Joe grimly. He headed towards the door, and flung it open. His first thought was that Joe had rather underestimated the size of the man. Clearly he was at least sixteen feet tall. Adam blinked a few time, and got himself under control. Well, maybe he was exaggerating. Twelve feet, perhaps.

"May I help you?" he asked politely.

"I'm looking for the pipsqueak."

"I see. If you could be a tad more specific, it might hurry things along."

"Just how many pipsqueaks are there around this place?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Well the one I want is named Cartwright, but he goes skulking around under the name of Cullins, stealing other men's wives."

"Aha. Well, that particular pipsqueak would be my brother Joe."

Joe, listening intently from the dining room, looked outraged as he heard Adam giving him up to the giant. He was about to stride out and confront his brother when he remembered that, under the circumstances, that might not be the wisest course of action. He stayed put, but resolved to point out to Adam the error of his ways once this way over—with fists, if need be.

"Well get him out here. I have plans that involve him. To begin with, I'm going to tear off his head and make him eat it!"

"That does sound like fun," Adam admitted, "but I'm afraid you're a little late."

Goliath glared. "What do you mean?"

"It means that I beat you to it. I murdered him myself when he got home last night."

"What?!"

"Yes. He hasn't been doing his chores, you see. And then when he snuck off to the saloon against my express orders…well, I'm only human, after all."

The man looked at Adam doubtfully. Although he was larger than the pipsqueak, he wasn't very big himself. Could he really have killed the boy?

"How did you do it?" he asked. "Did you torture him?"

Adam's eyes became misty and faraway. "Oh yes," he replied dreamily. Don't want to do these things too quickly, you know. It wants drawing-out. You have to remember, you've only known him since last night, and just think about everything you want to do to him. I've known him for sixteen years! Sixteen very...long...years."

The look on Adam's face as he said this convinced the man, and his face sagged in disappointment. He felt a little foolish riding all the way out here, simply to turn around and head back empty-handed. "Well, may I have the body at least?" he asked hopefully. "Not quite as good, of course, but there should be some satisfaction."

"Gosh, I'm sorry, but it's too late. I got rid of it. It was cluttering up the place."

"I don't mind digging it up."

"Oh, I didn't bury him. I was going to, but it's sort of warm today, and that seemed like an awful lot of work. So I just tied some rocks to him and chucked him in the lake. Saved heaps of time."

"Oh." The man looked crestfallen.

"Sorry to ruin your plans," Adam apologized. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd have waited to do him in. We could have had a nice little party. But…" He shrugged.

"Well, it can't be helped, I suppose," the man sighed in regret. "Guess I'll be getting back to town. No hard feelings, though, Mister. Stop by the Bucket of Blood sometime. I'll buy you a beer." He held out his hand, and Adam shook it with great solemnity.

"You wouldn't mind keeping this just between us, would you? I'd just as soon the story didn't get back to my father. I'm planning on telling him that my brother's gone off on a hunting trip, and when he doesn't come home, Pa'll assume Joe got eaten by a bear."

Goliath looked at Adam admiringly. "Good idea. It's important to have a cover story ready, I find."

"Yes, you can't leave these things to the last minute. Loose ends can be messy. Well, I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye. I have a great deal of work to do. I'm behindhand with having to make an unscheduled trip to the lake this morning."

The man nodded, and Adam turned and closed the door behind him.

Joe peeked out from around the corner and beamed at his brother. "Way-to-go, Adam! That ought to take care of the problem!"

Adam shot his brother a pained look. "Do you really think he's going to buy that ridiculous story for long? Would you believe it?"

"Sure I would. Why couldn't you have killed me?" Joe argued. "You're a good shot."

Adam snorted. "Well, there's certainly no denying I have reason. But let me rephrase. Do you honestly believe that anyone with even a modicum of brains would believe it? I wouldn't be surprised if he figures it out before he's half-way back to town. I hate to say this, but I think you need to take off for a little while."

Joe looked delighted. "You're saying I can take a vacation?"

"Well, not a vacation, exactly," Adam replied acidly. "A vacation is a temporary freedom from work. But freedom from work sort of defines your life, doesn't it? So let's just say you'll laze around somewhere else for a change."

"I could go to Carson City!" I hear they have a new saloon over there with some great card games going on."

"You just never learn, do you? Well, be back before the stage arrives Friday afternoon. If you're not here when Pa and Hoss get back, there'll be questions raised that I'm guessing you'd just as soon not have answered."

Joe grinned. Sure thing, Adam. Have a good time while I'm gone." He shot up the stairs to pack, fortunately missing the glower that Adam sent his way just before he stalked out the door to do the work of three.

oooOOOooo

Monday morning found Adam in the barn fixing the hayloft ladder. With every pounding of a nail, his annoyance grew as he reminded himself that Little Joe was supposed to have done this particular chore the day after their father had left, and, as usual, Adam was ending up doing it for him. He was just promising himself the distinct pleasure of snatching Joe baldheaded when he finally returned, when he heard the ringing of horse hooves in the yard.

For a moment he thought that Joe had come home early, and then, getting a grip on himself, he realized it had to be a visitor. Joe never made it back from vacation on time—let alone early. Clearly he had company. Half-expecting The Return of Goliath, Adam wondered briefly if the man rode his horse, or his horse rode him. He exited the barn to satisfy his curiosity on the subject and was surprised and pleased to see Roy Coffee, Virginia City's sheriff, dismounting.

"Morning, Roy," Adam called out from behind the man.

At the sound of Adam's voice, Roy whirled around, his hand hovering near the butt of his gun, a look of wariness clouding his face.

Adam grinned. "What's got you so jumpy, Roy? You look like you've seen the Devil, himself!"

Roy didn't smile. "I don't know what I'm seeing anymore, Adam, and that's the truth."

Adam looked concerned as he walked over to the lawman. "You feeling all right, Roy?"

"No Adam, I ain't."

"Well come in the house and sit down, then."

Adam attempted to lead the Sheriff into the ranch house, but Roy remained glued to the spot. Adam looked at him with growing concern.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Adam, answer me a question."

Adam shrugged. "Sure, if I can."

"What were you doin' in the barn when I showed up?"

An eyebrow rose quizzically. "Fixing the ladder."

"Really. Now t'me that seems like the sorta job a junior oughta be handlin'—not your Pa's right-hand man. Not the feller who's runnin' the Ponderosa while Ben's gone."

Adam's face showed a mixture of annoyance and chagrin. "And don't I know it. Joe was supposed to have done it over three weeks ago—but you know Little Brother."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do at that. Well, why not have him do it now?"

"Joe's gone," Adam replied curtly, his irritation at his brother still holding sway.

Roy fixed him with an intense stare. "Gone where?"

Suddenly a warning alarm began ringing in Adam's head. Why, he asked himself, was Roy out here bright and early, asking about Joe? Thinking quickly, he suspected that Gargantua had been spreading tales about his little brother. He resolved not to tell Roy anything until he determined exactly what it was Joe had been accused of.

Adam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against a porch support. "Why are you asking about Little Joe?"

"Where is he?"

"I told you. He's gone."

"I'm gonna need a better answer than that."

Adam's eyes became remote. He was very fond of Roy—but his family's well-being came before anything else. "Well, you're not getting one."

"In that case, I'm'a gonna have t'ask you t'come into town with me, Adam."

Adam shook his head. "Sorry. I got work to do."

"I'm afraid I'm gonna hafta insist. There's some odd rumors flyin' 'round town. Now you gonna come quietly, or am I gonna hafta handcuff you?"

Adam's mouth dropped open. "You can't arrest me for not answering a question!"

"No. No I sure can't at that. But I can arrest you fer murder."

"Murder!"

"I'll need you t'come along with me now Adam, nice and quiet-like."

"Wait a minute! Just wait one minute! Exactly who am I supposed to have murdered?"

Roy looked at him steadily for a moment before finally answering. "Little Joe Cartwright."

oooOOOooo

"Look, there's no denying he _deserves_ to be murdered, but…" Adam broke off. "Uh, wait a minute. Strike that last comment."

Judge Ketchel pounded his gavel vigorously and glared down at Adam. "The prisoner will be silent!" he demanded. "Now, having heard from Sam Kendall that the prisoner readily admitted to the crimes of torture and murder of one Joseph Francis Cartwright…," Adam glared over at the skulking giant who had self-righteously repeated Adam's ridiculous claims on the stand, "…and having heard from Sheriff Roy Coffee that no trace of a Joseph Cartwright, nor a Timothy Cullins could be found in Carson City…," Adam shot Roy a wounded look of betrayal, "…and twelve good men and true having rejected the prisoner's testimony that the presumed deceased was, in fact, in Carson City under an assumed name and in all probability playing poker, drinking beer, and kissing ladies of ill-repute, and furthermore having found him guilty of all charges…," Adam sent a menacing glower at the jury, "…this Court has no recourse but to sentence Adam Cartwright to be hanged by the neck until he is dead." The judge looked directly at Adam. "And may God have mercy on your soul."

"If God has any mercy, he'll leave me for eternity alone with Joe in a room filled with sharp objects," Adam snapped.

"Silence!" Judge Ketchel demanded once more. "Adam Cartwright will be taken to the Virginia City jail, where he will remain while a scaffold is erected in the Town Square. There, tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon, he shall be hanged. This Court is adjourned."

The judge rose and left the room with all the dignity of his office. Roy dragged a somewhat unwilling Adam to his feet and tugged him out the door. Truthfully, Adam decided, as he dodged the menacing glares and shouts of "Brother Killer!" from the men, and the weeping and cries of "Dear Little Joe" coming from the young ladies, this was getting a little old.

"I'd really like to go home, Roy," he commented as Roy locked him up once again in the cell where he'd spent the previous several nights.

"Reckon you would at that, Adam," Roy replied, "but ain't likely to happen."

"You know, if you'd just looked a little longer for Joe, you'd have found him."

"Yeah. Floatin' in Lake Tahoe, I s'pose."

"ROY! How many times do I have to explain this to you?"

"You can explain 'til yer blue in the face, Adam, but it ain't getting' you nowhere. I offered to testify as a character witness for you, and tell the Court how annoying Little Joe could be on occasion, but you done refused. What more can I do?"

"You could go look for Joe, that's what you could do!" Adam retorted coldly.

"I ain't gonna do that, Adam. Now, you know I always thought real highly of you, and I'll do what I can to make your last hours pleasant. I'll get you a good meal from the hotel, and I even brung you a new feather pillow and new, warm blanket. That's all I can do."

Adam's shoulders sagged and he sank down on the cot in despair. "Just promise me one thing, Roy."

Roy looked at the young man with sympathy. "Name it."

"When Joe comes back, kill him for me."

Roy snorted and left the deputy watching the prisoner while he left to get Adam's final supper.

oooOOOooo

The stage rattled to a stop and with a great deal of thanksgiving, Hoss and Ben exited, each holding their hands to the small of their backs.

"Pa, I ain't never ridin' a stage again when Jake's drivin' and that's a promise. I swear he deliberately hit every hole between here and Sacramento."

Ben laughed and clapped his son on the back. "Well, let's hope the ride back to the Ponderosa is a little smoother. And then we can sleep in our own beds tonight."

"And don't think I ain't lookin' forward to it, neither. I been dreamin' about my bed since we left."

"Well the sooner we start home, the sooner you can crawl into it. Now if we can just find your brothers," he added as he scanned the oddly-empty street for any sight of his other two boys.

"Prob'ly at the saloon drinkin'beer, 'stead'a meetin' us like they's s'sposed to be," Hoss answered acidly. "Hey Charlie," he called out as he saw a casual acquaintance ambling down the sidewalk. "You seen Adam or Little Joe?"

Charlie, no particular fan of the Cartwrights, grinned back. "Ain't no sign of Little Joe, and that's a fact. Now Adam. You'll find him right smack in the middle of Town Square. Sorta Virginia City's Man of the Hour, he is." Charlie laughed and walked away.

Hoss and Ben looked at one another in confusion. "What was that supposed to mean?" Hoss asked.

"Adam must have done something special for the town, so they're giving him a prize!" Ben's chest swelled out with pride in his eldest.

Hoss, a bit tired of Adam's constant accomplishments, snorted inelegantly. "Yeah. Prob'ly save some golden-haired, lisping child from certain death by a runaway horse, if I know him. Somehow always knows how to be in the right place at the right time. Come on. Let's go have us a beer."

"Now Hoss. You know Adam doesn't do that sort of thing for the admiration he receives. Come on. I want to see him receive his reward."

He hurried off towards the center of town, a less-than-enthralled Hoss trailing behind. They round the final building and before their eyes they saw Adam standing on the platform of a hangman's scaffolding a noose dangling beside his head. They stared in shock.

"Just what is going on here?" Ben roared. He and Hoss broke into a run towards the condemned man.

"Hi Pa," Adam replied casually. "How'd the business go in Sacramento?"

"Don't you 'Hi Pa' me, young man. Just what are you doing up there?"

Adam glanced over at the hangman's noose. "They're giving me a moment for my final words. I was trying to think of something clever."

Ben bounded up the steps, Hoss right behind him. He looked at Roy. "Why is my boy going to be hanged?"

"I'm sorry to hafta break this to you, Ben, but Adam here done murdered Little Joe. Nothin' else we can do."

Ben turned and glared at Adam with such vehemence that Adam found himself wishing he'd forgone his last statement. Hanging had to be easier than looking at Pa when he was in one of his moods.

"Why do they think you murdered your brother?" Ben asked, his voice deceptively quiet.

Adam winced at the tone, wishing the trapdoor would open up beneath him. "It's a long story…"

"ADAM!"

"Ben, he admitted to it hisself. Now I'm right sorry, you came back in time to witness this, but I got a duty to the law. Adam's been sentenced to be hanged and I gotta hang him. I'm sorry."

Ben looked in astonishment at the sheriff. "I don't know why you think Adam murdered Little Joe, but let's just stop this hanging until we can think this thing through."

"Ain't no thinkin' it through, Ben. He's been tried, convicted, and sentenced. Now Jerry, you get that noose over Adam's head."

The deputy obeyed as Ben and Hoss stared in disbelief. Adam looked steadily at them.

"Pa, promise me one thing…" Adam said.

"Name it," Ben replied huskily, unable to accept that he was soon to see his eldest boy die.

"Promise me you'll take care of my books."

Ben stared at his son blankly for a moment. "What did you say?" he finally roared. "Did you just say your books? Adam Cartwright, books do not matter at a time like this!"

Adam drew himself up to his full height and glared at his father as the deputy tightened the noose. "There is no time," he replied coldly, "that books do not matter."

Ben stared again in shock, and then looked up at the sky, raising his hands heavenward. "God, why did You smite me with half-witted children?" he bellowed.

"Now Pa," Hoss objected. "Me and Joe ain't half-witted."

"Shut up," Adam snarled at his brother.

"Well, you notice we ain't got nooses around our necks," Hoss pointed out.

"If I had my way, Joe would, and I'm beginning to feel the same way about you," Adam snapped.

Roy interrupted the family squabbling. "It's time. Hoss, take yer pa back down and let's get this over with."

Ben and Hoss, still disbelieving that any of this was actually true, began to object. Just then a low murmuring was heard among the crowd. It increased in volume until nearly all the townspeople were involved. Those on the scaffold turned to look at the object of interest.

Ben stared in incredulity for a long moment before his loud voice rang out. "Joseph Cartwright, you get over here right now!"

Joe stepped out of the crowd, a cold beer held casually in his hand. "Hey Pa, Hoss. Sorry I was late meeting your stage. Say Adam, what'cha doin' up there?"

The entire town looked from Joe to Adam and back again. Roy cleared his throat and stepped forward removing the noose while muttering words that no one could quite make out in a vaguely apologetic tone. Adam sent him a pained look and turned his back so that the sheriff could untie his hands. This done, Adam, looking directly at Joe asked, "So Little Brother. Just where have you been?"

Joe looked up in astonishment. "You told me to lay low for a while. So that's what I've been doin'!"

"Where?" Adam repeated. "You were supposed to be in Carson City."

"Oh yeah. Well I was gonna go there until I remembered this gal I met in this saloon in Reno, and I decided to head that way instead. Why?"

"You went to Reno?" Adam asked coldly.

"You went to a saloon?" Ben asked coldly.

Joe smiled weakly. "Well, I had some time to kill and…"

Adam jumped down from the scaffolding and landed on his feed directly in front of Joe. "Kill. Now that's an interesting word you just used there, Brother."

Joe back away. "What's that mean, Adam?"

Adam moved forward.

Joe backed away again, a look of bewilderment mixed with fear crossing his face. "Stop that Adam. Why're you acting this way? What'cha gonna do?"

Adam moved forward once more. Joe saw the look in his brother's eyes and, dropping his beer to the ground, turned and ran for Cochise.

END


End file.
